Second Time's the Charm
by Sophie French
Summary: Back in sixth year, Harry had spied on Draco on their way to Hogwarts, hidden under his Invisibility Cloak. Back in sixth year, Harry had ended up with a broken nose. Now two years down the road, in a similar situation, he might very well end up with something else altogether.


It was an odd feeling to be back, Harry thought as he looked out the window of the Hogwarts Express taking them back to the castle where Harry, Ron and Hermione, along with a bunch of other students from their year were to complete their studies.

It hadn't been an easy decision to make, but in the end, Hermione had managed to find the words to convince him. She had explained that it would be a good thing for Harry to settle down a little after the difficult months they'd had and take his time to really think about what he wanted to do next. There was no hurry after all; they were only eighteen.

Harry was a bit apprehensive at the idea of going back to Hogwarts; he had not been there since the final battle and wasn't sure he was quite ready to face the multiple scars the castle most probably still sported four months after the war.

But then, he was not alone and was thankful to have his friends with him for this new chapter of their lives.

Said friends were not very good company at the moment, though. Hermione was sitting in Ron's lap and they were snogging like there was no tomorrow in between two bouts of bickering. Some things never change, Harry thought.

After a while, he felt the need to stretch his legs and left Ron and Hermione to their snogging frenzy. He put on his Invisibility Cloak in an attempt to have a little bit of privacy - he just needed to be able to stroll about the train without having to stop every so often to answer the same questions over and over again.

He was heading towards the end of the train when he spotted a very recognisable patch of blond hair and - old habits die hard - felt his body tense. Of course now that the war was over, it was ridiculous to think that Malfoy was up to something, but you never knew. Harry was bored anyway, and Malfoy had always proved to be an entertaining distraction. So he went after him, still hidden under his Cloak.

The corridors were almost empty and it was easy for Harry to follow Malfoy. Harry frowned when they passed the Slytherin compartment and Malfoy didn't stop there, despite Pansy Parkinson's whining. Malfoy barely gave her a second thought and just snatched an issue of the Daily Prophet from the table before going on. That was getting interesting. Harry followed Malfoy through a couple more compartments until they reached an empty carriage at the very end of the train. Harry was quick and slipped into the carriage behind Malfoy before the door shut. Unlike a couple of years ago, this time he had managed to get in unnoticed. He smiled: he was getting better at the whole stalking thing.

The carriage was not divided into compartments and was only composed of long leather seats on either side of it. Malfoy sat on the left of the carriage while Harry settled quietly on the seat opposite him. He felt a thrill at the thought of having Malfoy all to himself, and revelled in the opportunity it gave him to observe Malfoy closely while the boy was totally unaware of it.

The months following the end of the war had been good to Malfoy; he must have had a good rest over the summer, since the bags under his eyes had disappeared and his skin no longer sported the grey tinge it had in the months before the war. Malfoy looked healthy, and now that the worse was behind them, Harry realised how handsome Malfoy really was. It had never occurred to him before - honestly, Malfoy was too much of a prat to ever hold any appeal back then - but now… Now was a different story. Malfoy was attractive.

After a while, and a good staring on Harry's part, Malfoy took out the Prophet and looked at the front page. Malfoy sneered and opened the paper to read the article inside. Harry felt instantly disappointed because the newspaper blocked the rather nice sight he had of Malfoy's face. His eyes diverted to the newspaper and his heart jumped in his chest when he realised the front page held a huge picture of himself, with the annoying title of 'Chosen One to Go Back to Hogwarts.'

Harry wondered fleetingly why on earth people felt the need to write whole articles about non-information, but he was soon distracted by Malfoy's right hand falling to his lap. It shifted Harry's gaze from the newspaper to the way more interesting sight of Malfoy's long, muscular thighs. Harry had no idea why, but Malfoy's hand randomly set on his leg felt oddly arousing. Perhaps it was because of the proximity with Malfoy's groin and the fact that if somehow Malfoy moved his hand up his thigh a little, surely he would soon reach his-

Shit. Harry hastily closed his eyes. There was something utterly wrong with his person if he now thought about Malfoy touching himself. But on the other hand, it was a rather endearing thought. Malfoy was eighteen and if he was like Harry - or like any boy their age, for that matter - he probably thought about sex as often as Harry did, which was all the fricking time, especially now that all threats of imminent death were gone.

Harry opened his eyes and was almost disappointed when Malfoy's hand had not moved either way. Right. He had to find a way, any way really, to get out of here because it had been a ridiculous thing to follow Malfoy in here and Harry felt a familiar tingle between his legs that meant he was very close to getting hard, and getting hard over Malfoy of all people was not an option. Definitely not.

Harry's eyes went back to Malfoy's hand. It was a nice hand, Harry thought. All pale, long fingers that contrasted with the perfectly pressed black trousers on which it was resting. It shouldn't do anything to Harry, but the fact that Malfoy was always impeccable, always so neat and immaculate appealed to him more than it should.

And then there was the signet ring.

God that signet ring! Harry didn't know why, but Malfoy's ring did crazy things to him, way more than he was ready to admit. There was something about it… It encompassed everything Malfoy represented to Harry: the haughtiness, the feeling of being better than anybody else, the long history of an old family, and also… power, sheer power. Just imagining Malfoy, and his right hand, and his signet ring and-

Harry was hard. There was no denying it anymore. Harry was hard over Draco sodding Malfoy. And his signet ring.

Merlin, what the hell was wrong with him? Maybe he should go and see the mind healer Hermione had recommended in the end. Fuck. Right now he wished he wasn't that much of a Gryffindor and had actually done some thinking before slipping in with Malfoy in an empty carriage like he had done. Because now he was stuck in here. There was no way he could leave unnoticed and Harry had absolutely no wish to have his nose broken a second time on the bloody train. So he forced himself to look out the window and focus his mind on anything that was non-Malfoy related.

He could do it.

He would do it.

Right.

But then Malfoy let out a breath. It wasn't much but Harry's already very keen senses caught it straight away.

And against his own free will, he turned back to look at Malfoy and nearly jumped when he realised that although Malfoy's left hand was still holding the newspaper, shamefully hiding Malfoy's face from view, Malfoy's right hand had moved and now rested on the rather impressive bulge that had formed between Malfoy's legs.

Harry swallowed hard and unconsciously licked his lips.

At first, Malfoy didn't do much though. He was just lazily playing with himself, probably still too absorbed by his reading to put too much thought into what he was doing. And then, Malfoy started increasing his pace, rubbing his hand on his groin, his signet ring moving up and down as little by little, Malfoy's dick was taking its fully-erect form.

Harry closed his eyes again. No, he frantically thought, please no. Not that.

He flicked his eyes open when Malfoy moaned.

Malfoy.

Moaned.

While fondling himself.

Harry had never been harder in his life.

He very slowly let his hand run down his body and pressed his palm onto his own aching erection. It didn't help. For one thing, it made him even harder. He had a couple of seconds of indecision but there wasn't much he could do. He was way too aroused to stop now.

He started to caress himself, mimicking Malfoy's erratic gestures as Malfoy let out yet another moan that sent shivers down Harry's spine. Harry was focused on Malfoy's hand, focused on the bloody ring that was moving up and down pretty fast now and did crazy things to Harry's body. He had to bite his bottom lip hard to avoid letting out a cry as he started trembling from the exertion. He hoped against hope that it wouldn't show under the Cloak.

"Yes!" Malfoy hissed behind the newspaper and then Harry's heart stopped for a second when Malfoy hastily unbuckled his belt and plunged his hand in his silky dark green underpants and took out his cock.

His beautiful, gorgeous, perfectly straight cock. Harry managed to stifle a moan at the last moment, but it was a close call.

"Yes, oh fuck, yes!" Malfoy said again in a whimper, and God how glorious it was to see Malfoy slowly conceding inch after inch of self-control. Malfoy's cock was now leaking precome and he was rubbing his thumb on the head of his prick, moaning again. Harry couldn't stand it anymore and opened his own trousers achingly slowly, so slowly it was torture. The thought of being caught red-handed by Malfoy if he rushed it helped him proceed with caution.

Another moan and Malfoy seemed way too far gone now to really pay attention to what was going on in his supposedly empty carriage. Harry shamelessly stroked himself, the feeling of his warm hand amazingly good against his throbbing shaft as his other hand was painfully maintaining the Cloak in place.

"Oh, oh, oh, yes, fuck, Potter, yes!" Malfoy said in a strangled cry and Harry froze.

It took him a couple of seconds to understand what Malfoy had said and when it finally reached Harry's lust-clouded brain, he nearly came on the spot.

Harry didn't have time to think about what it meant that Malfoy, of all people, shouted his name while wanking because Malfoy suddenly shifted on his seat. In one swift motion, he closed the newspaper and threw it on the seat, Harry's picture facing the ceiling. Malfoy pulled his trousers and pants down in one go, giving Harry a much better view of his beautiful dick and balls and - oh God! - his wonderful arse. Malfoy hastily knelt on the seat and stroked himself over- Holy shit! Malfoy stroked himself right over Harry's photo in the Prophet.

"Oh, yes, Potter, yes, Potter, yes!" Malfoy shouted beautifully as he came hard, hips thrusting back and forth as spurts of semen landed all over the newspaper, quickly covering Harry's smiling face on the picture.

It was almost enough to send Harry over the edge, but then Malfoy opened his eyes, slowly turned his head and looked at Harry.

Looked.

At Harry.

Through the-

Oh Merlin no.

Harry had been so taken by the sight of Malfoy coming copiously on his picture self that he had not noticed the Cloak had slipped all the way down to the floor.

"Potter," Malfoy hissed and for the second time on the bloody train, Harry found himself in a rather compromising position. "You bloody pervert."

Malfoy's eyes were alight with something almost disturbing, as if hesitating between punching Harry hard in the face or hexing him into oblivion. Harry thought about taking out his wand but it was useless since he had left it in the back pocket of his trousers that were currently pooling around his ankles.

Malfoy moved dangerously closer.

"I'm warning you, Malfoy. If you come closer-"

"If I come closer, what? You'll attack me with your other wand?" Malfoy tilted his chin towards Harry's cock and Harry felt himself blush furiously.

"I-" Harry started but then Malfoy was on his knees and took Harry's dick in his mouth and Harry stopped breathing altogether. "Oh!"

And then Malfoy put his right hand - the one with the ring! - on Harry's cock and started stroking him while licking the head, worshipping it as if it were the most wonderful thing in the world. The sensations were absolutely incredible, nothing like Harry had ever felt before. Malfoy was so fucking good at that, alternating between licking and sucking and taking Harry's dick all the way into his mouth that Harry was sure Malfoy had done this before.

If possible, the thought of Malfoy's mouth sucking more cocks turned Harry on even more.

"I- Malfoy!" Harry shouted as the head of his cock brushed the back of Malfoy's throat and Harry finally came hard, filling Malfoy's filthy mouth with warm spurts of come and Malfoy swallowed eagerly. Malfoy kept his mouth on Harry's dick, taking his time to lick it clean while eyeing Harry with- hunger.

Malfoy finally removed his mouth from Harry's spent cock and pulled his pants and trousers swiftly back up. He swiped his mouth with the back of his hand and sent a last dark look at Harry before leaving the carriage without another word.

Harry slowly got up and dressed again, still dizzy from what had just happened, and not entirely realising it had indeed happened. He noticed the Prophet still dripping with Malfoy's come before and came closer. His stupid picture-self grinned as Malfoy's come was already drying. Harry vanished it with a flick of his wand.

Too bad he couldn't keep it.


End file.
